The Fourteenth of February
by lickitysplit
Summary: It's February 14, and Ban has forgotten exactly what that means. But now that he is a Holy Knight of Liones, the memories of past Februarys come back, some welcome, and some not. Oneshot.


Ban always felt it was very bad luck to have been born on Valentine's Day. What a joke: the unloved boy brought into the world on the day to celebrate love. It was also fodder for the older kids, who would laugh and call him Cupid, desperate for any reason to make him small and weak.

He probably wouldn't have even known it _was_ his birthday if his parents didn't use it as a reason to remind him how very useless he was. His father liked to tell him that she wished he hadn't been born and his mother made sure he knew he was most certainly _not_ worth the effort of pushing him into the world, and Ban never had any reason to question it. Boys who had nothing to offer but a dirty face and an empty stomach didn't get cake and presents on their birthdays.

When he started hanging around Zhivago, he looked forward for the first time to Valentine's Day. Surely now that he had a _friend_ , the day could turn around? Kilia had been long gone, so there wasn't anyone to share anything with until he had come along. But that relationship had ended as abruptly as it began, and as he nursed his wounds from the beating outside of Lord Roxnau's, he decided not to tell anyone it was his birthday, ever.

Adolescence made it easier, because as he grew taller and more mature, the more he was able to blend in. Drinking made things a _lot_ easier. The only good thing about Valentine's Day was that the alcohol would always be flowing from efforts of both sexes to get a partner sufficiently inebriated to end the day wrapped around one another. Ban had gotten plenty of offers over the years, and had seriously debated one or two; but it never seemed like the right call, and always ended his birthdays the way they began: alone.

Then, after _her_ , there was prison. The days blurred together so much that he didn't know if it was February or August. It was just the endless stretch of living until he was put to death again. A lot of time was spent in the sort of bitterness that only came when he realized in order to get what he _thought_ he wanted, he had to sacrifice what he _actually_ wanted. He had his immortality, and now he got to enjoy it without the person who would make it worthwhile.

By the time he was a knight in Liones, he had forgotten all about the fourteenth of February.

* * *

Ban woke up the same way he did almost every morning: face-first across a table in a pub in Liones. He had been dreaming about something, green grass and white clouds, maybe.

The stale air of the tavern scratched at his throat. He coughed, peeking through one eye, trying to assess if it was morning, afternoon or night. But this particular establishment was always dark, so as he tenderly lifted his head, the answer was not obvious. There was something sticky on his face and his legs were asleep, and he groaned internally as the room tilted.

"Hey there!" a cheery voice said above.

With a wince, he looked up through the bangs matted on his forehead. "Not so loud~" he grumbled.

A hand patted his shoulder, and a steaming cup of something that made his stomach do a little flip was placed in front of him. "You know, you don't have to sleep down here. I have a bed upstairs."

That made him snort, which made everything hurt even worse. "Can't afford it," he winced.

The seat next to his scraped against the floor as Ban stretched into a sitting position, the sound piercing his temples. "I'll give you a discount."

Finally awake enough, he looked at the very voluptuous and just a tad over-perfumed woman now sitting next to him. Dark chestnut hair was pinned up into large sausage curls, a few little tendrils falling around a heart-shaped face. Dark almond-shaped eyes seemed to sparkle at him, the red painted lips forming a seductive smile, her cheekbones accentuated with rouge. A bit of heat crawled up his neck, and Ban shook himself.

"I'll keep that in mind." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked around, rolling his shoulder a bit. "What time is it?"

"Not quite noon." She pushed the steaming cup a bit closer. "This will help, I promise."

"No thanks," he yawned after a quick sniff. "Got anything stronger?"

The woman—Angel? Angie? he could never remember—leaned forward, her arms on the table. His eyes trailed down to where her cleavage was pressed up and out, making a lusciously deep curve; the tops reminded him of rising bread, which made his stomach rumble. "Ban," she said gently, "when are you going to let me take care of you?"

Her hand went to his knee, and slid a bit to rest on his thigh. "Yeah, that's okay," he said, giving her his signature half-grin. "I can take care of myself."

"Can you?" Angel-or-Angie slid a bit closer, arching her back, so now her knees pressed against his and her chest was just inches from his. "You really should have a woman in your life."

" _If your brother is the king, that makes you some kind of princess, right?"_

Ban blinked to clear his head. "How do _you_ know I _don't_ got one?" he asked against his better judgment.

She gave a delightful little laugh and tossed her hair over her shoulder, something he knew was one of her own signature moves. The way she dismissed his question actually made him feel just a tad insulted. The smile slipped from his face as he scowled. "Ban, if you had a woman in your life, you wouldn't be sleeping in a run-down tavern and waking up next to a girl like me." She batted her eyelashes, heavy with makeup. "Especially on a day like today."

"Why? What's today?" he frowned.

The look she gave him then was pure pity. "It's Valentine's Day, dearie," she purred.

Valentine's Day: the absolute _worst_ day of the year. His lungs squeezed as his stomach dropped, from something _other_ than the alcohol. A rushing sound filled his ears as he tried to swallow, his tongue suddenly feeling too big, his throat too dry. He hadn't thought about _this_ day in years. Not since before—

Panic bubbled under the surface of his skin. Ban thought about making a run for it, but found himself nearly frozen to the chair. Where would he go anyway? Bandit Ban didn't have a home. Undead Ban was in prison. The Fox Sin of Greed belonged here.

Her hand continued its journey north, snapping him back to the present. "Why don't we celebrate this day for love?"

"Can't, sorry, gotta go," stammered Ban.

He jumped up quickly, his oversized frame knocking over his stool in his haste. As he leaned over to grab the coat that was draped on the chair opposite, he watched Angel-or-Angie pout. "You're never any fun."

"Yer right, I'm not," he quipped. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a few coins and left them on the table. "Here's for your trouble all the same."

She smirked at him as he turned to go, but he noticed she snatched up the coins and deposited them into her cleavage.

Outside was brighter than he would have preferred. Ban held up a palm to shade his eyes as he shrugged on the coat and began to walk through the streets. It was still cold in Liones, the winter still going strong despite the bright sun in the sky. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and kept his head down, eyes on the ground in front of his feet. His thoughts immediately went elsewhere, thinking about how his boots made a dull click on the stone street. Liones was the first city he had lived in for years, and it still was strange to not see grass everywhere. Would she have liked the city? She had probably never been to one, and he puzzled a bit as he thought of her bundled up in a coat and hat, if she would like the buildings or be homesick for trees, if she would be overwhelmed by all the people or finally feel real freedom being just like everyone else.

The barracks for the Holy Knights was on the east side of the castle, so he began walking, wondering if he had missed a meeting or anything. _Probably_. Ban debated whether to skip checking in altogether. Getting a lecture from Captain would only be slightly preferable than the inevitable lecture from King. That was assuming Diane didn't jump in, or Merlin… making a run for it was looking better and better.

But he continued on anyway, his breath coming out in in white mist; he had responsibilities now, after all, as much as he _hated_ that. As Ban walked he noticed how busy it was on the street, and he looked around strangely at all the bustling around. All the shops were open, people hurrying in and out carrying packages; some of the vendors were selling sweet confections, others were filled with flowers. It looked almost like Christmas, but it was impossible for him to escape it: today was Valentine's Day.

This fact seemed to hit him right in the stomach. This was the first time in years he had thought about it; the prison guards hadn't been much for celebrating holidays. Before that, the day was marked with a haze of alcohol and a variety of bad decisions in his adolescence; before _that_ …

Ban swallowed thickly. Before that wasn't even worth remembering.

With a muttered curse he picked up the pace, now agitated by the sights and sounds of happy people buying for loved ones. The storefronts were awash in paper hearts and red roses, and every person he passed seemed to be carrying boxes wrapped in ribbon or bouquets of flowers. "Stupid," he grumbled under his breath.

Yet something inside him felt a bit tight at seeing all the smiling faces and the hand-holding. He thought of what Angel-or-Angie said about him needing a woman and let go a long, slow sigh. If things had turned out differently, would he be one of these idiots running around with chocolates and stuffed bears? Ban paused mid-stride, taking a look to the left and right as he stood in the middle of the street, before heading towards the nearest cart selling flowers.

There was an older couple running the stand, but both were preoccupied with other customers, so he looked at the flowers. Their scent was heavy in the air, and his shoulders seemed to relax on their own. It was strange to see such colorful buds in winter. Ban wondered briefly if they used some kind of magic, or if they had been transported in somehow.

A bud of deep, buttery yellow caught his eye. Ban leaned in, taking a deep breath. What was the name of this flower? Of all the things he had learned about the world as he wandered around stealing, flowers were not one of them. There was someone he could have asked once, but not now. There was a lot he wished he could have asked, but seven days wasn't that much time. He could be forgiven for that, couldn't he? Maybe he shouldn't have been so focused on having fun and more focused on _her_. But how could he have known?

Realizing he had closed his eyes, he slowly opened them, staring at the color. It really was an absolutely perfect shade of yellow.

He turned away when the wife stepped around the side to greet him. "Looking for something special for a special lady?" she asked.

" _You're the first person to really listen to what I have to say."_

"Just gimme some flowers," answered Ban gruffly, pulling out a coin and holding it up between two fingers.

The woman's eyes lit up. "Hmmm, must be a _very_ special lady then… red roses will do the trick!"

She reached to start pulling the roses from the holder when Ban placed a firm hand on her arm. "No red."

He earned an arched eyebrow from the woman, and wondered what she thought about that. Luckily she did not press for more. "All right then," she mused thoughtfully, "what shall we do? We have yellow, but that's for friendship, and you look like a man who does not have many friends…"

Ban snorted as she carefully examined the flowers for sale. "Purple for passion, but that doesn't seem to fit you either." Her eyes flickered over to him and then back to the stand. "Orange for excitement, blue for peace, pink for respect… no, no, none of these will do… hmmm— _oh_."

She suddenly straightened, and then shot him a curious look. "I don't suppose white would suffice?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What are white for?"

Shrugging, she answered, "A few things… could be purity… could be for a wedding… could be in memory of someone." The woman seemed to be watching his reaction carefully. "Any of those sound about right?"

"Just wrap them up," Ban snapped, feeling ridiculous now. The woman pressed her lips together and nodded before beginning to select individual buds.

As he waited, Ban looked over his shoulder, watching people walk by. His chest felt heavy to think that he was buying white roses, that he was buying _anything_ , really. What was he hoping to prove, by doing this? He didn't want any damn flowers. There was nobody to even give them to.

Had he given her a flower? His mind weaved slowly backwards, as it did every time he had a quiet moment. He couldn't remember giving her one: another regret. Every memory was tinged with some way he had done it all wrong. The idea slid through him slowly, climbing back down to peruse through the flora he had never seen before, finding a perfect one to give. Would she have liked it? His mouth twitched a bit, picturing her blushing face. She always did that when he did something unexpected, so he had liked surprising her, even though half the time it was completely by accident. But maybe giving a flower was an expected thing to do? Had she gotten one before? Would she roll her eyes at him instead of cradling it in her hands?

His thoughts were interrupted when the woman's husband stepped up next to him. "Hey, aren't you one of those Sin guys?"

Ban looked down at him out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah!" the man continued. "You are, aren't you? What's your name—Bob? Bart? Something like that, right?"

"Something like that," he replied, turning back to watch the street.

"Yeah, I knew I recognized you. They call you the Fox Sin. Sin of Greed, right?"

Huffing out a breath, he looked back at the flower seller. "Who wants to know?"

"Never expected to have a _famous_ guy at my cart is all." Ban rolled his eyes, but it was unclear if the man picked up the meaning behind it because he continued right on, "Hey, I got a question for ya. You Sins all did something bad, right? That's why they call you the Sins?"

Ban stared straight ahead, not wanting to react at all. Who did this guy think he was? He debated just leaving and forgetting the flowers altogether when the man asked, "So, what was yours? What did you do that was so greedy?"

For the second time that morning, Ban found himself frozen. Why was he asking that? _They aren't allowed to ask that_. But that's _their_ rule, not one for out here, and he tried to focus on _not_ pulling out Courechouse and destroying the cart with one flick of his wrist.

"How bad was it? Did ya kill somebody?"

He spun then, his teeth bared into a snarl, ready to snatch the merchant and tear him in half—but he drew up short to see the woman push her husband backwards, one hand pressed on his chest while the other held the bundle of flowers. "Joe you old fool, leave 'im alone! He's not here to answer your questions!"

"I was just _asking_ ," he answered with a deep annoyance.

Ban clenched his fists, but the woman shouted, "Asking what's not your business! Now get over there behind the roses!" The two had a momentary stand-off as they glared furiously at one another; yet after shooting a scowl at them both, the husband spun and walked around the other side of the cart.

"Sorry about that. He's a real ass." She shot him another vicious look, and Ban would have laughed if he was not still _fuming_. More than fuming; the desire to show him _exactly_ why he was the Fox Sin pulsed in his veins. Still debating whether or not he should wring the florist's neck anyway, the press of flowers on his arms pulled him from his dark thoughts. "Here you go. Free of charge."

"I can pay—" he answered, his agitation clear, but the woman waved him off. "Nah, you're a Holy Knight and protect us, least I can do, especially after my husband the _ass_ went and acted like a ninny." She pressed her lips into a thin line and looked up at him. "Besides, looks like you got enough going on today. Hope this helps."

" _But what if you obtain immortality, and nothing good happens to you?"_

He debated a moment if he should argue, but then just shrugged. Staying any longer would be nothing but trouble. Ban headed off, continuing his walk towards the Holy Knights' buildings.

As he walked he cursed at himself a bit. The guy was just asking, just curious. He would be too, wouldn't he? Ban was supposed to be some Holy Knight now, some protector of whatever. He snorted at that, like he could protect anything. But he could, he could do this. That's what he had decided, to make things right. It wouldn't really, _nothing_ would make it right, but he could protect _something_ and then maybe he could figure out a way to do this, to have a life.

His hand squeezed around the bouquet and he cursed his stupidity again. What a damn masochist he was, buying the stupid things. Flowers, _white_ flowers, of all the goddamn things.

The complex, located inside the city, connected the castle to the Magical Research Building. There were training fields, an armory, sheds for horses and equipment, a kitchen and cafeteria, offices for the commanding officers, and the barracks for apprentices and knights. Apprentices were required to live there, but Holy Knights could choose either way. Most lived on site until they married and started families, and the Seven Deadly Sins had their own set of rooms separated from the other Holy Knights. However, their group did have to share the common room with the others, which is where he headed first.

Typically Ban didn't mind that much; anything was better than the street, or hell, even the prison. But when he finally reached his destination, Ban realized his mistake. The second he walked into the common room there were calls and jokes being tossed his way. "Look at those!" one of the knights hooted. "Did someone give you flowers, Ban?"

"Look who's awake!" called another. "Did you sleep in the garden last night?"

"Nah," joked a third, "he was with some girl."

"Must've been pretty bad if he had to get a bouquet _that_ big!"

Ban grit his teeth and walked through the room, ignoring the teasing as he went. The room was filled with tables and a variety of seating options, enough for several dozen people to fit comfortably during the off hours. Today was a different story, the room nearly empty save the group of loudmouths. He headed towards the far wall where there was a kitchen and bar area located. He opened a cabinet and began rummaging around until he found a bottle of dark liquid. Immediately his nerves settled, popping off the cork and taking a long drink.

Now feeling the very welcome burn of the alcohol sliding down his throat, he could focus. The fuzzy feeling in the corners of his eyes and the tips of his fingers became sharper as his mind cleared. Ban looked down and saw the bouquet of roses, frowning when he saw that one had gotten slightly bent, probably when he had dropped them on the counter. He wondered if she was there, if she could heal it somehow. They could do that, couldn't they? Would she be upset over his carelessness, or laugh at his silly worry?

It was the _not_ knowing that was the hardest.

"Hey, Fox Sin," came a voice behind him. Ban placed the bottle on the counter but did not turn around, instead pressing his hand onto the smooth wood surface, the other squeezing around the stems of the white roses. "You didn't steal those flowers, did ya?"

" _I'm protecting the fountain from bandits like you."_

He clenched his fingers, the tips splintering the wood just a bit as they dug into the top of the counter. He recognized that voice as one of the newer Holy Knights, some idiot with more mouth than brains and definitely more attitude than power. Ban knew that he was just looking to be a tough guy—that was an old trick he had learned a _long_ time ago, back on the streets—but he would be damned if he let this one get away with accusing _him_ of something. "Because if you stole them," the knight went on lazily, "then I'm gonna have to take you down to—"

"Try it," he growled, spinning around to throw a punch, or maybe even rip his heart out—he'd figure that out once his hands were on the guy. For just a second Ban watched as his ugly smirk turned to alarm as it registered on the knight that he was about to get hit into next week. The satisfaction of that expression was like a delicious appetizer to the blow he was about to deliver until a familiar hand slapped his as he turned.

"Hey Ban! Where ya been?"

He pulled up short, stepping back to steady himself. "Hey Cap'n," Ban answered through gritted teeth, but his eyes remained on the knight now frozen, staring at him with wide eyes and an even wider mouth.

"Glad I found you," he said cheerily. "Want to go get a drink? Unless you have plans…"

He watched as the Captain eyed the flowers in his hand. "Drink sounds good," replied Ban, trying to sound casual. "Just give me a minute to put this guy into the ground."

"Who?" Meliodas looked around, confused, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the still-gaping knight. "You mean this guy?"

Ban nodded. "Yeah. Him."

The Captain shrugged. "We don't have much time, so let's get the drink first and then you can come back and hit him, okay?"

The Holy Knight made a squeaking noise at that, and Ban was a bit pleased to see his eyes widen when he shot him a look. But he followed the Captain outside, the two walking together back towards their own barracks.

"Where'd you get the flowers?" asked Meliodas.

He looked down to see he was still holding the bouquet. "Street cart," he muttered.

"They're nice."

They fell into a companionable silence as they walked the rest of the way towards the nearest tavern. Secretly Ban was glad for the fresh air; killing another knight wouldn't have won him any points for sure, and he didn't want to make life harder for the rest of them. Gowther was weird and Escanor was annoying and Merlin was cagey and King was a huge pain but overall they weren't the worst group of people he ever met. And he wouldn't want to give the Captain a hard time if he could help it. After breaking out of prison it seemed like a good idea to join the Sins: three meals a day, a roof and a bed, wages every week. He had all the ale he could want and clothes and blankets and his own set of custom-made armor. The work was fun and exciting and Captain was a blast. Ban wasn't a team player, but neither were the others, so their team-that-wasn't-a-team seemed to work, somehow.

But he hadn't taken into account Valentine's Day. He hadn't thought about what it would be like to be experiencing _this_ and still have to deal with _them_.

"Here we are!" the Captain announced. The nearest tavern was a popular hangout for the Holy Knights, and today was no exception. Ban grumbled a bit to be surrounded by so many people, but no one really looked their way as they headed towards the bar and their regular spot in the back.

"Two," Meliodas called to the bartender, and then turned to Ban with a sidelong glance. "Are you going to tell me what those are for?"

With a growl under his breath he slammed the flowers on the counter. "I said, they're nothing," he answered.

Their ale arrived and Ban snatched it up, draining it with one long drink; thankfully Meliodas did not say anything as he ordered another. He turned his back on the rest of the tavern, trying to block out the happy conversation that surrounded them as he hunched forward. Ban crossed his arms on the counter before pressing his forehead on top. This stupid _day_.

Things went from bad to worse when King arrived. He had two more drinks in him, thankfully, so the old man's voice didn't grate _too_ unbearably in his ears. Ban did not bother to lift his head as he lifted the empty mug up for another round, groaning internally as King slumped into the stool next to him. "What do I do?" he moaned. "It's Valentine's Day, and I don't have anything for Diane!"

"Why would you get something for Diane?" the Captain asked.

"I don't want Diane to not get anything for Valentine's Day!" King quickly answered. "Girls love this stuff, and she will be so disappointed if nobody gets her anything! Should I get her flowers? That's not good enough. Candy? Does Diane like dark or white chocolate? Should I get different kinds? Does she even like candy?"

The two continued talking over his slumped body about the merits of buying a gift for someone you were not dating—or not even interested in, King assured them with an entirely-not-convincing huff—as Ban grew more and more agitated. What was he even doing here? He should have stayed with Angel-or-Angie, at least for a while, and gotten nice and drunk. He should have given her the money he spent on the stupid flowers, at least then he'd be having some fun instead of listening to these two argue over him. Hell, he should have punched the old man or ripped the arms off of the Holy Knight, because then he'd be in prison, where Valentine's Day didn't exist.

His ale arrived, so Ban sat up, grabbing the handle and tipping back to once again finish it in one long drink. Then he slammed the glass on the counter and turned to King with a snarl, "Look, you wanna buy the giant girl something, then go do that. Don't sit around here moaning that you want to and then not do it. If you ain't got the balls, then shut up. But if you do, then be grateful you got what you got and go find the bitch already."

His words were slurring, he could tell, but he felt that he made _mostly_ sense. At least with the way King was turning from red to purple, he figured his point was made. "Hey, Ban," the Captain said from behind him, "why don't you—"

"Nah!" he exclaimed. "I'm sick of him talking about Diane this and Diane that. He got a woman, and he should be using up every minute he's got."

"Oh what do you know!" King finally exploded. "You're too drunk to even know what I'm talking about."

"I know _exactly_ what you're talking about," snapped Ban, poking King in the chest with one long finger. "And I ain't _nearly_ drunk enough to listen anymore."

He was expecting to make King good and mad, and was actually looking forward to getting punched, but to his annoyance he only deflated a bit. "What would you even know," he repeated. "You probably don't even know _how_ to love someone."

" _I was really happy… when you said… 'wanna make that happen'..."_

The room swam a little bit, and Ban closed his eyes. He clenched his jaw as he took one deep breath after another, willing himself to stay upright on the stool. "Yeah," he answered. Ban sunk forward again, the counter cool against his heated skin, letting him breathe a bit.

"I still don't know what to _doooooo_ ," groaned King. "Everything is bound to be sold out by now. There aren't any flowers or candies left in the city."

"Well what do you fairies do?" asked the Captain. "Do you have a Valentine's Day?"

He pricked his ears up a bit for the answer. Ban always forgot that King was a fairy; his huge body and ugly face was so unlike the tiny, delicate features of the one fairy he had ever met. He was interested to hear what the fairies did when they loved someone— _not that it would do you one damn lick of good_ , he chastised himself—and tuned in to the answer.

"No, we don't have anything like that," King huffed. "When fairies fall in love, they don't do much about it. At some point, you go to the tree and make your choice, but there's no cards or flowers or candy."

Ban closed his eyes and pictured the tree, the trunk thicker and taller than the castle itself, the top covered in soft pink leaves. He pictured standing at the base, looking up, wondering what was at the top. He remembered the nervous energy that sent him climbing, heading towards what he thought was the first day of his _real_ life, his _real_ future. What an idiot he had been.

"When you make your choice, you take a flower from the tree and give it to your love. That way it becomes a part of the forest. But there's not much more than that."

He pictured that, too, reaching up to pull a pink flower down from a branch. Would she even be able to reach? The corners of his mouth lifted a bit as he pictured her standing on the tops of his feet, her body elongating as she reached upwards, her fingers trying to grasp one. He'd probably laugh, which would probably earn him one of her screeches. But it would be worth it to see the way her cheeks became dusted with the same rosy hue as the tree itself. He really did love that.

"I never really cared much about it, but that was before I met Diane. I don't know much else." King sighed. "I bet my sister would know, though. She always liked being there when a couple would visit the tree."

Ban frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. King had a sister? He never remembered him mentioning it before.

"Can't really ask her though," King laughed. "She's stuck watching the forest. The Holy Maiden can't leave the tree or the Fountain."

Everything inside of him came to a halt. Ban felt his heart skip a beat, and then it was if his blood was replaced with ice water. Suddenly he was sober, _painfully_ sober, and he jerked up at the sensation, his mind spinning as fast as the room. His hand flew out to grip the bar to keep him from toppling off of the stool just as he felt the Captain's hand on his elbow. "Ban!" he laughed. "You okay there?"

"Your sister—" He spun to the side to gape at King, who was staring back with a deeply disapproving look.

"Yeah?" he huffed. "What about her?"

 _His sister_. King's sister was the Holy Maiden of the Forest. The protector of the Fountain.

" _I've been protecting this cup and this forest in the place of my brother, the king of the forest."_

He found him. He found the Fairy King.

" _I'll find your brother and bring him back. I do that, then you're free."_

He had kept his promise to her… but it was too late.

" _In order to satisfy your own greed, you destroyed the forest… and you killed the Fairy Saint!"_

It was his fault, _his_ , the entire damn thing. If the Fairy King hadn't left the forest, then she wouldn't have been there, then it could have been _him_ to fight the red demon and protect the Fountain. Ban stared at King, who stared back, his eyes darting over his shoulder as he said, "What's his problem?"

But the question barely registered as the truth thundered furiously through his mind. How could he have not known this? How could he have not figured it _out_? His eyes grew wider and wider as he struggled to breathe. They looked nothing alike— _nothing_ —but he said it, he said his sister was the Holy Maiden. All these days and nights, months since getting his tattoo and his new name, fighting and eating and arguing and drinking right next to him, and he _never realized it_.

"Forget this, I'm leaving," King finally snorted, hopping off the stool.

Ban's arm whipped out, his hand grabbing a hold of King's arm before he even knew he had done it. This moment was something he had thought a _lot_ about in prison: what he would say to the Fairy King when they finally met, what he would ask, what he would _do to him_. A million things ran through his mind, a million questions.

" _For seven hundred years… Nothing good has happened to me in all that time."_

His fingers dug into King's arm, and Ban could see all his choices in his mind's eye. He'd demand to know where he was, what he was doing, what was so _goddamn important_ that he'd leave her alone like that. He'd ask if he knew what happened, if he even _cared_ , if he knew what it looked like to watch the forest burn, what the heat and the smell of the cooking fauna was like. He wanted to know if he knew what golden eyes looked like bright with laughter and pain and fear. He wanted to know if he remembered the cool shade of the canopy or the feel of the mushrooms. He wanted to hear him say her name, and beg her forgiveness, and then watch as he pulled King's heart from his chest, just as he had done to the red demon.

" _The forest must have known that you would protect it."_

Suddenly Ban let go of his arm. "Here," he said gruffly, snatching up the bouquet and pushing it at King. "Give these to Diane. I spent good money on them, so you owe me."

King looked at him strangely, but accepted the flowers. "Thanks," he said with another weird look, then turned and headed out of the tavern.

Slowly Ban turned back to the counter. His hands were shaking, so he pressed them on his thighs, slowly squeezing. Then he looked up at the Captain, who was sipping from his own mug. "Did you know?" he rasped.

Meliodas paused mid-drink, his eyebrows raising up from over the top of the mug. He swallowed as he put down the ale and asked, "Know what?"

His eyes darted back to his hands, which had finally stilled. "Nothing."

"Hey."

Ban looked up at the Captain. "That was pretty nice what you did," he said with a smile. "Giving King those flowers? It was good."

" _Even though my life has been all that great, if I live long enough… something good might happen. Something like that."_

"Buy me another," he huffed. "I'm not drunk enough for this stupid day yet."

The Captain gave a whoop and called for the bartender, and Ban let out a long, slow breath, the corners of his mouth curling up a bit.


End file.
